Family and Time
by Heartless-are-squirrels
Summary: Wee!Chesters. Dean is getting sick of his dad and brother arguing all the time, so he takes a short drive to a good friend. Time on the clock is ticking..


**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or any of the characters. Hope you enjoy the story!**

It was the 20th of January, four days before Dean Winchester's birthday. And Sam and John Winchester were arguing... Again.

Dean sighed. He was 17, soon to be 18, and yet no one seemed to give a crap that he was even there in the rather small and crappy motel room they were staying in for a few weeks or so. There had been some intense murders being reported, and they figured it was a werewolf, since every victim had their heart ripped out. They were about 20 hours away from where Bobby Singer, a hunting buddy of John's and a sort of adoptive uncle of John's boys.

Sam was yelling at John, and Dean sighed, frustrated. The oldest and youngest of the Winchester trio had been arguing for 3 and a half hours- although this was nothing new. Dean usually would try and break them up, but he was so tired of having to get in between the 2 people he loved the most, having to pick between one of them.

Dean finally decided he'd had enough. He stood up and shrugged on the brown leather jacket that had once been his dad's.  
"I'm going out!" he shouted, and was totally ignored. Dean sighed. He knew Sammy could take care of himself against their dad, knew that John would never hit the youngest anyway. Dean walked out into the cold night air of North Dakota, and slid into the front seat of his black 1967 Chevy Impala, which his dad had handed down to him. He started the car, pleased as the beauty purred to life, and he pulled out of the parking lot.

The time was 6:45 am.

He drove for hours. He didn't realize he had been driving to Bobby's house until he was about part way there, around 9:52 am. Dean drove through the rather drab and repetitive scenary. He drove straight and sure, his thoughts buzzing around angrily in his head as his only company.

WHY did Sammy and Dean ALWAYS have to argue? Why couldn't they get along for ONCE in their LIFE?!

"Idiots!" Dean suddenly yelled to no one in particular. He slammed his hands on the outer rim of the steering wheel, careful to not hit the horn.

Dean stopped to fill up the Impala at 2:00 in the afternoon, getting great mileage. He was back on the road at 2:10.

At 3:45, he was about an hour away from Bobby's. It was stormy dark outside, and it started to snow madly.

At 4:15, a dull bronze truck rammed into the Impala.

The impact forced the smaller car off the side of the road, and the sound was LOUD. The car struck a tree, and the driver's side of the car caved in, trapping a swearing Dean inside. His leg was crushed by the dashboard, and his shoulder had slammed hard into the car door, and made a sickening CRACK! His head followed his shoulder and smacked the window. Dean's vision went fuzzy before he blacked out entirely.

He blacked out at 5:17 pm.

Dean woke up at 6:38 am, a full day after the wreck. He didn't know this of course, and he also couldn't tell where he was. His vision cleared quickly as he forced himself awake, trying to figure out where he was. Dean groaned with the pain that ripped through his body as he struggled to sit up. Dean hissed at the sharp pain in his head.

"Good ta see yer finally awake, ya idjit." A familiar voice growled out, startling the teen.

"Bobby? Is that you?" Dean croaked out, his voice hoarse from disuse.

"Dmn straight it is. What the hel were you thinkin, pullin a stunt like that?! And where's that idjit of a dad of yers and yer brother?" Bobby demanded, worried out of his mind. He came to sit by Dean, who was laying on the couch, and sat in the chair across from him.

"North Dakota." Dean said, sighing. He struggled to pull himself up, but finally gave it up as a lost cause. "What happened, Bobby?"

"A truck crashed into you. The other driver is fine, just a mild concussion and a few scrapes and bruises. You, on the other hand, were not quite so lucky. Concussion, crushed leg, dislocated shoulder, and some broken and cracked ribs." Bobby listed off what had happened. "And why did you decide to leave that family of yers?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.

"How's the car?" Dean asked. John would MURDER him if he had wrecked it... "Hold on, what day is it?"

"It's January 22nd. And I've been workin on the car. Why did you leave yer family?" Bobby asked again, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"They probably haven't noticed I'm gone yet." Dean said with a bitter laugh (which he regretted at once- laughing with broken ribs is never fun). Bobby just waited for him to continue. Dean sighed, a bit annoyed.

"Look, Sammy and Dad were going at each other again, and I just decide to go for a drive, alright? I didn't even realize where I was headed until I ran outta gas." Dean said a bit snippily. Bobby sighed. He knew John and Sammy didn't always see eye to eye, and that ever since Sammy had turned 11 he'd been talking back to his dad more and more, but he hadn't known that it had gotten so bad.

"Are you hungry?" Bobby asked, getting to his feet. Dean thought about this for a few seconds. Then he nodded at once, his stomach growling louder than the Impala his family owned. Bobby went into the kitchen and made him a sandwich.

"Did you call Dad?" Dean asked as Bobby came back in.

"No, not yet. I wanted ta ask you if I should or not. I figured he was coming behind you, anyways. I would have called him around noon if you hadn't woken up yet." Bobby said, handing the sandwich to Dean, who took it and devoured it. Bobby watched over the boy carefully, like a father.

When Dean finished the sandwich, he relaxed a bit on to the couch again. His stomach wasn't full, not by a long shot, but it was fine. He was fine. If he could get some more sleep, that would be absolutely fantastic...

"You ain't fallin asleep on me just yet!" Bobby warned him, his voice loud enough to jolt Dean from semiconsciousness. Dean groaned.

"Come on, Bobby!" He complained, while Bobby shot him a dark look.

"You ain't goin to sleep until you tell me the whole story." Bobby said. Dean groaned and rolled his eyes, before sighing and relenting.

"Fine. Sammy's been fighting Dad tooth and nail over EVERYTHING ever since he turned 11. It didn't used to be TOO bad, but lately the kid has just seemed to be AIMING to piss off dad. He keeps talkin about how he doesn't want to join the family family buisness, how he wants to go to college, go to Harvard or Stanford or somethin. Dad hasn't been too happy bout that. They just keep screamin and goin off on each other. A couple of times, they didn't talk to each other for days and days on end. Today... Well, today it got really bad. We were goin on a hunt for a spirit, just a simple salt-and-burn, and he told dad he would rather go to school. Dad wasn't too happy bout that. He made Sammy go, and Sammy sulked and whined and complained the whole way there and back. So Dad let him have it once we got back to the motel. I told em I was goin out for a drive, and left. I just... I just am tired of all the screaming, Bobby. That's all. I just needed a break." Dean finished his rant and took a deep breath, looking Bobby in the eyes. Bobby grimaced.

"Yer daddy and brother are too similar. Hard headed, stubborn, determined to get their way. I'm surprised they didn't butt heads more often before." Bobby said, shaking his head. "Idjits. Well, yer welcome to stay here until you can go back. Do you want me to call yer family?" Bobby asked Dean. Dean shook his head.

"Nah. Let's see how long it takes them to notice I'm gone." Dean said bitterly. He wasn't important to his family, just another mouth to feed. And now here was the chance he had to finally prove it. Bobby watched the teenager, saddened by how much pain he could see in the boy's green eyes. He nodded, and stood up, walking out of the room to leave the boy with his thoughts and memories.

Meanwhile, in a motel room a hundred miles or so away from Bobby Singer's junkyard, a 13 year old boy was sulking on a filthy motel bed. Dean wasn't home and John was cleaning his guns, yet again, much to Sam's annoyance. Sam hadn't seen Dean since the last blowout he'd had with his dad. They had fought for hours and hours, until finally John had stormed out of the room around 1 am. Sam had no idea where John could have gone, since the bars should have been closed and very few places were open at 1 in the morning. That was on Thursday, and now it was Saturday. John had come home late Friday night and had gone straight to sleep without a word to Sam.

Sam was ticked.

Where was his older brother? It wasn't like Dean to just take off without a word to anyone. Not to mention that he had left Sam stranded at school on Friday afternoon, when he could have gone home with some of the friends he had made. No, Sam had waited for Dean, who had never showed up, so Sam had walked about 5 and a half miles to their motel room, in the cold. Sam was never one for the cold.

Where on earth was his idiot of a big brother?! Sam was grumpy as he poured himself a bowl of cereal, thinking about all the weirdness of his family and how much he couldn't wait to get out. He'd get a full ride to Stanford... Live in California... Get a pretty girlfriend (hotter than ANY girl Dean had ever scored with)... And just be normal for the first time in his life.

He would miss Dean, he supposed. Dean had been the one to look after him pretty much his entire life, had been his only real friend, since they moved around so much. Dean protected him and their dad fiercly, and Sam was positive that he owed Dean his life from more than one hunt gone wrong.

But Dean was always Dad's perfect little soldier, the favourite son- HE followed orders without questions, obeyed without talking back or sass or anything of the sort. Just a simple "Yes, sir" before doing what he was told. And, to be honest, it pissed Sam off a bit. He just didn't understand why Dean was so faithful to a man who constantly kept secrets to them, lied, dragged them all the way around the country with no regards to safety or school or their education, had endangered their lives more than once, and was, in Sam's opinion, not a great dad (putting it lightly).

_Well, wherever Dean is, I hope he didn't ditch me, _Sam found himself thinking bitterly. Then he would really be stuck with John Winchester. Sam shuddered at the idea of being trapped hunting forever. All he wanted, all he had ever really wanted, was just to be normal. To live in a normal house, with a normal family, and go to a normal school where he'd have normal friends and do normal things and normal school activities. He didn't understand why this made him a freak in his family, and he couldn't fathom why Dean liked hunting so much. Dean was strong, smarter than he portrayed himself to be, could charm anyone- he could go really far in life, as long as he tried. Why waste his talents on hunting and hustling pool (along with some other slightly illegal activities)?

Sam sighed; he was probably never going to ever truly figure out his mysterious big brother... With that thought in mind, Sam went over to the motel bed and fell on top of it, and then fell asleep.

Two days passed quickly in the Singer household, which meant, quite suddenly, that it was Dean Winchester's 18th birthday.

"Happy birthday, kid." Bobby told him with a gruff smile. Dean grinned back. "Pie?" He asked hopefully, his green eyes sparkling. They still hadn't heard from John or Sam, but that was okay. He was going to enjoy his first day as a legal adult.

"You know it. Never could say no to you little brats." Bobby teased him, before going into the kitchen. He returned later with a plate with apple pie and whipped cream, and a fork. Dean grinned in excitment. He hadn't had pie for his birthday since he turned 7 years old. His dad had always said there wasn't enough money. Dean always made sure to get Sammy something special on his birthday each year, though- and he was fine with it. He didn't need it, and he understood his dad's problems with lack of money. So he never complained. But he was thrilled to have pie on the day he became a legal adult.

"Aww, you know you love me," Dean teased right back, grinning cockily at him as he accepted the pie. Bobby swatted him gently on the back of the head.

"Idjit."

The day went by quickly for Dean and Bobby. It wasn't like they could do much, with Dean still healing from the wreck, but they didn't need to do much. Dean helped Bobby fix the cars, doing the best he could with not being able to use his legs at all and having his ribs being jacked up. So that meant mostly handing Bobby the tools that he needed and occasionally fixing something. It was nice.

Of course, Dean would look over at the phone constantly during the day, and then look away quickly. Hurt would always flash for a few seconds before vanishing again. Bobby tried to keep him distracted from his absent family, keep him busy.

At 8:20 am, the phone rang.

Bobby grabbed it first. "Singer residence, how can I help?" he asked gruffly.

"Bobby? It's Sam. Is Dean there?"

"Why? He missin?" Bobby played dumb, looking over at Dean. Dean obviously wanted to grab the phone from Bobby, but had no choice but to watch.

"He's gone, Bobby! I don't know where he is, and I'm really worried about him-"

"Then why didn't you call sooner?" Bobby cut off the frantic 13 (soon to be 14) year old. "Yer idjit of a brother has been gone for three, practically four, days. And now you call lookin for help?" Bobby told Sam, a bit annoyed.

"Bobby, I-" Sam started, feeling guilt swell up inside of him. "I'm sorry, I-" Bobby cut him off again.

"It ain't me you should be apologizin to." Bobby said simply.

"Bobby!" Dean hissed at him. "Let me talk to him!" Bobby looked at him, in disbelief. "Are you serious?" Bobby asked in a low voice. Dean hesitated for a moment, before nodding. Bobby sighed, muttered "Idjits", then handed the phone to Dean.

"Sammy?" Dean asked, hoping it was Sam and not his dad.

"Dean? Are you okay? Dad and I will be over there as soon as-"

"Sammy." Dean said quietly. "I'm fine." Sam was silent on the other line.

"Why didn't you call?" he demanded at last. "Why didn't you call? You had us freaked!" Sam said. It was half true- he and John had noticed Dean's true absence the night before. They had freaked out, but hadn't known what to do about it.

"Why didn't you call?" Dean asked quietly. "Why didn't you ask for help any earlier, if you were so worried?" Sam was stunned. He didn't know how to answer, how to respond. He didn't know what he should do about this. Dean was right. He and their dad had totally let Dean down. They had just forgotten him and not called or done anything to find him, or even noticed.

"Dean... I'm... I'm so-"

"Yeah. I know. I get you. You and Dad have your stuff goin on. It's fine, Sam." Dean said, his voice barely holding back the exhaustion he felt. It was just all so much responsibility all the time, every day, without a break, without a simple "thank you", or anything of the sort. He never minded looking after Sammy- he loved his baby bro way too much- but he just wished that he was a little more noticable in his family's mind.

"Dean-" Sam started again, his voice shaking just a bit. How could he let his brother down like this? It was awful!

"Bobby wants the phone back. Bye, Sammy." Dean said shortly, and handed the phone to Bobby, who promptly hung up. Bobby sighed. "Idjits." He muttered again. This got a smile from Dean, whose eyes looked far away.

"Is there any more pie?" Dean asked, trying to lighten the tense mood. Bobby snorted and went into the kitchen, bringing back pie. "Happy birthday, idjit." He smiled.

Sam was totally shocked. Dean had just hung up on him! What was going on with his big brother? Sam was really worried. John wasn't back yet, and wouldn't be home until later in the night. Sam bit his lip. He was almost 14, so not quite old enough to drive, but... He needed to get to his brother! What would he do...? Sam sighed, and supposed there was no helping it.

He picked up the phone, and called his dad.

Dean and Bobby enjoyed the rest of the day in relative quiet. Of course, the loud music blared throughout the garage, and occasionally someone would stop by for a part they had ordered, but the pair themselves were quiet. They'd ask for a tool here and there, but that was about it. Bobby was pissed at Sam and John for totally forgetting about the most constant thing in both their lives.

At 9:34 pm, Bobby and Dean were relaxing inside, watching an old Clint Eastwood movie at Dean's request. They had finished with repairing the cars about an hour and a half earlier, and were both very proud of themselves.

At 9:36, they heard a familiar roar of a car coming to Bobby's house, rolling over gravel. Bobby and Dean looked at each other in confusion, before growing suspicious. Bobby grabbed a salt-bullet filled rifle, and turned off the TV. There was a knock at the door, and Bobby waited quietly.

"Bobby! Open the dam door!" The very distinct voice of an irritated John Winchester called out. Dean wasn't sure what to do, what he wanted to do. Answer the door? Leave his family out in the dark?

"Dean? Bobby? Can you open the door, please?" Sammy's voice pleaded, sounding frightened. Bobby crept closer to the door, and looked out. He opened the door to find John and Sam standing outside in the snow. John looked mad, and Sammy ran inside to find his brother.

"Dean!" He called out in shock, looking over his big brother.

"'M fine, Sammy. How did you get here?" Dean asked, briefly looking over at their dad.

"I called Dad, had him drive me. But what happened!?" Sam asked in worry, as he sat by his big brother, his eyes large with worry.

"It was an accident. I'm fine." He added, to ease the worry growing in Sam's large eyes.

"Are you sure? Do you need a hospital? Did you even GO to a hospital?" Sammy asked, his concern becoming far more evident in his voice.

"Nah, don't need to. I'm tougher than THAT," Dean rolled his eyes, teasingly. Sam looked at him suspiciously. "Are you sure, Dean..?"

"Of course I'm sure!" Dean said, pretending to be indignant. Sammy hugged him tightly. "Hey, hey, hey, easy little brother, easy! No chick flic moments!" Dean said, wincing as Sam hit his hurt ribs by accident. Sam backed off at once. "Sorry, Dean," he said with proper remorse.

"You're fine, squirt." Dean teased him, ruffling Sam's shaggy hair. Sam pouted and glared at Dean.

"Hey! Don't mess with my hair!" He said indignantly.

"Btch." Dean responded with an easy grin.

"Jerk." Sam responded instantly, smiling.

"Why didn't you let me know that Dean was here?" John asked Bobby furiously while Dean and Sam talked.

"Kid didn't want me to. He wanted to test you both, I think." Bobby told John, blunt and straight to the point. "He was here for a couple a days, and neither you or Sam called to ask for help. Did you even notice he was gone?" Bobby asked the last question with a hint of irritation clear. John didn't notice Bobby's temper rising, or maybe he just didn't care. John was mad to have had this secret kept from him. Dean was his good soldier, never talked back to him, always followed orders without question and as soon as they were given, always looking after his baby brother. Bobby knew that John took advantage of Dean's love for his family, and used it to make the boy a better hunter. Bobby hated what all the responsibility had done to Dean- made him grow up way too fast, made him consider his life to be nothing compared to that of his brother and father. He was mad that John hadn't noticed his son's absence, especially so close to the boy's 18th birthday. The kid was a dam adult now! He should've been going off to college, have a steady girlfriend, be goin out drinkin and partying, not taking care of his baby brother and idjit father, not hunting down wendigos and angry spirits and whatever the hel the Winchester family tracked down and killed.

"You shoulda told me, dam it! He's my son!" John insisted, his dark eyes flashing dangerously.

"Kid's a legal adult now, John. He can make his own choices." Bobby said in a low voice. "Or did you forget that today was his 18th birthday?" He added irritably.

"Don't you DARE think that I don't care about my own son!" John spat back at Bobby. The older hunter looked back at Sam and Dean.

"Maybe we should take this outside." He said, looking John straight in the eye.

"Don't." Dean's voice drifted over to them, and they turned to look at the boys. "Come on, guys. Don't make me take you both down," he joked half heartedly. Sam looked nervous and guilty, and hid behind his brother. John nodded tensely, and walked over to talk to his son.

Bobby watched the Winchester family, rage boiling within him. He wanted to do something, anything to help. But he wasn't their father, wasn't related to them. He could only watch and be ready to help them without a second thought. The older hunter sighed, and went into his kitchen to grab a beer. He was getting too old for this nonsense.

Dean, Sam, and John all talked for hours, catching up with each other on what they had missed. Bobby joined in after his temper had cooled and he'd had a couple of beers. John had a beer or two, but mostly tried to stay sober. Dean was happy that his family was all there with him, that they were all happy. He forgave them for not noticing his absence, and he had moved on.

So as they talked and laughed through the late hours of the night, Dean felt content. Sam fell asleep around 1 am, curled up by his brother's side, though he always said that he was too old to cuddle anymore. Deam wrapped an arm around his brother and crashed out around 3 am. John and Bobby stayed up, talked. But they too fell asleep, around 4:32 am.

It was the end to a good day, Dean had decided before he had fallen asleep. He was pleased that everyone had gotten along so well, for once.

For once, everything was going to go just fine.

**The End.**


End file.
